Ballet shoes
by never-give-up-hope2
Summary: "...and it only dawned on her mother whom she had been looking for."


**Okay, i don't really know what this is but i wrote it a few weeks ago and finished it yesterday. It's to keep you entertained while i try to figure out what my next story is going to be (suggestions are welcomed with open arms). I also heard that Cote de Pablo still hasn't signed her S11 contract! WHAT!**

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The little girl twirling in front of a large audience did her best not to look disappointed, but it was almost impossible. He had promised he would come this time, and for once she had actually believed him, believed that for once she was more important than whatever he did all day. Now she felt foolish but her face remained impassive and instead of breaking down and crying (which is what she really wanted to do) she poured all her emotion into the delicate ballet routine she was doing. At the end of the routine she got a standing ovation. Although she felt proud, it was not what she wanted, it wasn't him.

Her mother, in the audience, watched her little girl's face drop. It had been the fifth time the girl had scanned the audience and it only dawned on her mother whom she had been looking for. That bastard. He promised her he'd be here, didn't he? She wasn't naïve enough to believe it but her daughter was. He'd broken his daughter's heart again. Going into mama bear mode, she swore that when she got her hands on him, Eli David would regret the day he was born.

When they got home, Ziva ran straight into the room she shared with Tali. Rivka had expected it, Ziva felt like a fool. She had believed her father's lies once again and had gotten hurt again. Rivka didn't have it in her to tell the little girl what Eli was like, who he really was. Ziva still idolised her father, she still believed that he would save her from anything. What kind of person would Rivka be if she stole away that dream?

Pushing open the door, Rivka stepped into the bedroom. She stepped softly over to Ziva's bed which was the one closest to the window. It was when she was in this room that Rivka noticed a stark difference between her two daughters. While Tali's wall above her bed was decorated with hand-drawn pictures and posters of Hebrew lullabies, Ziva's was bare except from three things; a sun-catcher, a family picture and a picture of her, Ari and Tali.

Rivka sat down on the bed beside her daughter's feet. She could hear Ziva's stifled sobs and could feel shame radiating off her. Placing her hand on her daughter's back, Rivka said, "he promised you he would come, didn't he?"

Ziva stilled for a second, hearing the disdain in her mother's voice. "Yes," she sighed, "he promised and I believed him. I was stupid."

"You were not stupid Ziva. Do not believe for one second that you are. He is your father, you had no reason not to believe him," Rivka said harshly, hating Eli even more. How dare he make his daughter feel stupid and foolish?

"I am stupid Ima, he has disappointed me before. I do not know what made this time different. Maybe it was the way he said it?" Ziva turned over and looked up at her mother, tears making their slow descent down her cheeks.

"Maybe Ziva, maybe. Do not worry yourself over it. I will talk to your father." Rivka leaned down and kissed her baby on the forehead, "You were amazing tataleh. Absolutely amazing." She got up and left the room. Another mother might have stayed with their child, saying the same words over and over but not Rivka. Ziva was different than her other children, comfort made her uncomfortable and the more you gave the more withdrawn she became.

Rivka went into her bedroom and rooted around in her bedside drawer. Finally, she triumphantly recovered a piece of paper. She reached for the phone and dialled the number she could just make out from the faded ink. It took two rings for the secretary to pick up.

"Shalom. How may we help you?" Eli's secretary said. Mossad didn't bother with pleasantries, you didn't get their number by accident. If you didn't know who you were talking to then you had no business being on their phone lines.

"Shalom Adi. This is Rivka David. Could you please put Eli on the phone."

"Sorry ma'am but the Deputy Director is in a meeting with foreign dignitaries at the moment. Would you care to leave a message." Adi knew how formidable Mrs David could be. She had met her enough times before to know that she was incredibly stubborn and would not let anyone or anything stand in her way.

"No, that is okay Adi. Just tell him I called and that he had better not be late home tonight."

"Will do ma'am. Shalom." Adi said, before hanging up. Rivka put the phone back.

Maybe it was better that she couldn't talk to Eli right now, that way she might not strangle him. He knew better than to make promises to Ziva, because she was the one who believed him. Ari distrusted Eli, barely even spoke to him. Tali was too little to understand any such things, she was barely a toddler. Rivka was thankful that at least Tali still believed in the illusion Eli created. Even she had to admit that it was a beautiful world; in which Eli was the hero, ridding the world of all evil. Not too long ago, she had believed in the fantasy herself. It hadn't taken her long to see straight through the façade.

There had been a time, when Eli had called her every lunchtime to make sure she was okay. There had been a time when he was prepared to drop everything if she needed him. There had been a time when Eli was home by five every night just to spend time with their children. It had been a fairytale.

But unlike most fairytales, there were no 'happy ever afters'. As Eli had moved up the political ladder, his love for Rivka had gone down his list of priorities. He still loved her and she still loved him but their world was no longer their own. It was always about Israel; at first she had loved his passion and fiery determination for the safety of their beloved nation. Rivka was a religious woman; she had the utmost faith in the Lord above and observed the Ten commandments religiously. One of them was 'thou shall not kill'. As time had wore on, she had realised that it was necessary that Mossad did what they did but she would have no part in it. She did whatever she could to protect her children from becoming like their father.

Eli worried her with his future 'plans' for their children. She could not save Ari, even if she was not her son she still had a duty of care to him. He was already fourteen and was training for the IDF when he was older. Rivka had no say in that; Eli was his father and Rivka was not his mother. She still loved him though, and she vowed that she would protect him. However, conscription still existed in Israel which meant that she would have to watch all of her children grow up and become killers. Having escaped the fate herself for religious reasons, Rivka could not even prepare them for the horrors that were going to be bestowed upon them.

Ziva worried her the most; she was such a child of contradictions. Would climb trees and fences and all things like that without fear but when it came to a thunderstorm, she had to take refuge under her mother's arm. She would dance delicately and play the piano beautifully yet her favourite doll was the American G.I. Joe. Ziva would get into fights with the neighbourhood children no problem but if she fought with her siblings then it almost left her crying. Rivka knew Eli saw this as an advantage, he saw all of her bad traits as good ones and all her good traits as bad. Well, perhaps not exactly but almost.

Sighing, Rivka sat down on one of the living room chairs and reached for the Torah that was sitting harmlessly on the coffee table. Opening it to a page, she began to pray. A small voice interrupted the flow of Armanic words from her lips.

"Ima, can I pray with you?" Ziva asked timidly, her eyes strangely void of tears and emotion.

"Of course tataleh. Come and sit beside me."

Ziva came and sat beside her mother, relaxing into the soft lilac smell of her clothes. Beginning again, Rivka started to pray but this time she was joined by the sound of her seven year old reciting the Hebrew words with her. Ziva would not be this young and innocent forever but right now, Rivka had this. And this was fine, this was just fine.


End file.
